


We can't protect you.

by TVFangirl04



Series: Reader x Winchesters [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares, Protective Dean Winchester, Protective Sam Winchester, Werewolves, mention of Bobby Singer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-02
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-13 13:20:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29154198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TVFangirl04/pseuds/TVFangirl04
Summary: It's been over a year since you last saw Sam and Dean Winchester, but they show up to help after someone you know is killed.
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Reader, Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester, Sam Winchester/Reader
Series: Reader x Winchesters [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2140044
Kudos: 6





	We can't protect you.

**Author's Note:**

> I have decided to make a series and I hope you enjoy. This one was difficult to write as I wanted it to be more of a back story to the next chapter in the series which will hopefully be coming soon :)

Please pick up. Please pick up.  
“Dean? Hello?”  
You’re trembling as you wait for a response.  
“Y/N?”  
Hearing his voice, you catch your breath.  
“Dean, I need help.”  
Your voice breaks as you repeat his name.  
“Y/N, where are you? What happened?” Dean asks, concerned.  
Immediately you feel tears spill from your eyes. Hearing your muffled cry over the phone has Dean pleading for you to tell him what is wrong. You give Dean a quick recap and tell him an address. You can't make out exactly what he is saying, but you know Dean is giving Sam instructions.  
“Three hours, Y/N. I’m sorry. We’ll come as fast as we can, I promise,” Dean says to reassure you.  
It is going to be the longest three hours of your life. 

You hear a loud knock on the door.  
“Y/N, it’s us.”  
Still wrapped in your blanket, you open the front door with relief.  
Dean embraces you first, wrapping his arms around you the same way he did when you had said goodbye to each other eighteen months earlier. He kisses you on your forehead, and you instantly feel comforted. Sam is standing behind him, staring at you with his worrisome puppy-dog eyes. He bends down to hug your small frame and squeezes you tight. Both boys look tired, and seeing as it’s past midnight, you are not surprised. The three of you walk over to the couch, and you sit in between the two brothers.  
It has been a year and a half since you last saw the Winchester brothers, and this is not the situation you were hoping to see them again. Throughout the months, you have kept in contact with them, mainly through messaging. They are always busy hunting; you are busy working and living your own life. You will often exchange texts with each other to keep updated with each others' lives, but the last you had spoken was over five months ago.  
“Sam and I are going to look at the crime scene tomorrow. Probably stop past the morgue as well,” Dean says, putting his arm around your shoulder.  
You nod. The way Dean talks so casually about it makes you realize just how different your life is from theirs. For them, they’re working another case, in another town, chasing another monster. For you, well, you just so happen to know the victim. Despite having gone through the witch ordeal, you were not prepared to see your favorite co-worker murdered on the floor of his apartment.  
“Cyrus was such a sweet guy, you know. Not many people understood him because of his Asperger syndrome, but we always seemed to get along. He had the same routine every day and was never late, so when he didn’t show up to work today, I knew something was wrong.”  
“So that’s why you stopped by his apartment?” Sam asks.  
“When I finished my shift, I thought I would pass by to check up on him. In case he was sick or something. The maintenance guy in his apartment opened the door for me. When we walked in…”  
By this point, you can’t finish the rest of the story because recalling what you saw is too horrific. Sam and Dean can see by your emotions that you are upset, so they change the subject. 

“How long you been in North Dakota?” Dean calls out from the kitchen.  
“Ah-ha,” you hear him say, and you know he’s found the six-pack of beer in the fridge.  
“Just help yourself, Dean,” Sam says, shaking his head when he sees Dean walk back carrying three bottles.  
“Honestly, it’s okay. Make yourselves at home. It’s been a long day for you two as well,” you reply.  
Dean offers both you and Sam a beer; you say no thanks.  
“Coming up to five months. I’ll stay until I figure out where I want to go next,” you respond to Dean’s previous question.  
Sam and Dean look at each other, and once again, you know they are having an unspoken conversation.  
“You two aren’t saying anything, but I know you’re thinking the same thing. So tell me.”  
You look at them both curiously. Sam clears his throat.  
“Well, Dean and I talked on the way here about how we want to protect you, you know,” Sam explains, “because we care about you. We don’t want you getting hurt again.”  
“Basically, we had this idea that maybe you could stay at Bobby’s for a while. You remember we talked about Bobby, right?” Dean continues.  
You nod. They have spoken about Bobby several times, and you know he’s like a father figure to them.  
“You want me to live with Bobby in Sioux Falls?” you ask, unsure if you heard Dean right.  
“Look, we know it’s not ideal. You’re young and independent and you want to live your life. But with what happened in Ohio, and now here…” Sam pauses, “we really worry about you. We want to know you’re safe. And Bobby’s is the safest place you could be right now.”  
You take a moment to process it. You’re exhausted, and your brain isn’t thinking straight.  
“Guys, I’m not sure.”  
You can’t help but yawn as you finish your sentence. Both Sam and Dean take notice.  
“It’s late. Why don’t you get some shut-eye, and we can talk more in the morning?” Dean suggests as you yawn yet again.  
You agree. It then dawns on you that you have no spare bed in your one-bedroom unit and only one couch to offer the boys to sleep on.  
“I, er, don’t usually have company sleepover. One of you can take the couch and the other…well, I guess he’s sharing with me.”  
Standing from the living area, you look over at the queen-sized bed in your bedroom. Part of you feels comforted that you’ll be sleeping next to a Winchester tonight. You hope it makes you feel safe enough that you won't have any nightmares. 

Unfortunately, it doesn’t.  
You wake up in a panic and feel yourself hyperventilating. You sit up and reach for Sam, who’s lying next to you, as your breathing becomes more rapid.  
“Y/N, it’s alright. I’m right here.”  
Sam consoles you when he wakes up by instructing you to take deep breaths. He does them with you so that you can follow his lead. It’s early morning, and the sun is just beginning to rise, so there is the smallest amount of light in the room. You watch his chest as he breathes in and out deeply, and soon enough, the panic eases.  
“Feeling better?” Sam asks as he notices your breathing return to normal.  
“Yes, thank you. I guess the nightmares have started again,” you respond with a heavy sigh.  
Sam rubs your back gently.  
“You’ll get through this,” he tells you. “Try and get some more sleep. I’m right here next to you.”  
You both lie back down, and although it may be a tad inappropriate, you find yourself nestling into Sam’s chest. You feel his diaphragm rise and fall, which helps keep your breathing steady. Sam doesn’t flinch or seem bothered at all by your coziness, and you slowly drift off to sleep with his arm draped across your shoulder. 

Entering the kitchen, you see Sam and Dean dressed in their FBI suits, both sipping coffee and discussing the case. Sam looks at you and smiles as you sit down at the counter. You managed to get a few extra hours sleep, but the vision of Cyrus’ mutilated body on the floor has not left your mind.  
“Coffee?” Sam asks, and before you can say yes, he is already pouring you a cup.  
“Are you going to Cyrus’ apartment soon?” you ask.  
The boys look at you earnestly.  
“Yeah. We’re going to head over this morning,” Dean replies. “You’ll be okay for a few hours?”  
You raise your eyebrow and purse your lips.  
“I’m not a child, Dean. I am 25-years-old. I’ll be okay without the supervision.”  
You pause for a moment when you realize how your sarcasm came across as a little harsh. They’re just looking out for you.  
“Thank you for your concern,” you say with a gracious smile.  
Sam and Dean tell you not to leave the house while they’re gone and to keep all doors and windows locked.  
“It’s just until we know what we’re dealing with,” Sam reassures you.  
You want to protest, but you know they’re only being protective. You don’t have to work today, so there is not any reason you would need to leave the house anyway.

“A werewolf?!”  
You’re sitting at the dining table with Sam and Dean, picking at the lunch they bought home for you. With everything that has happened in the last 24 hours, you are not particularly hungry. You rearrange the contents of your salad roll as the boys fill you in on their morning.  
“Heart was ripped out of the chest. Should have guessed with it being a full moon and all,” Dean explains with a mouth full of his turkey sub.  
You’re in disbelief, and you remain quiet as the brothers discuss the lore of werewolves and how they’re going to find the one who killed Cyrus.  
Sam eventually notices you aren’t eating. He’s smart enough to know it’s because you’re anxious.  
“Y/N, we need to talk about where you should stay,” he says in a serious tone. “You’re not safe by yourself.”  
“Werewolves hunt in the night. That means Sam, and I need to be out there tonight. We can’t stay here and protect you,” Dean responds.  
You can see by their facial expressions that their minds are set on you living with Bobby.  
“Quit treating me like a child, I can handle being by myself for a night. I don’t even live near Cyrus’. I’ll be fine.”  
You cross your arms as you lean back in your chair. As anxious as you are, you are tired of always running away. You ran away from home; you ran away from Ohio. To be honest, you’ve made a life of running away when things get hard.  
“Please, Y/N. Try to understand. This werewolf that killed your friend may know who you are. Some attacks are at random, and other times they attack those who are a threat. We don’t know their motive. It could be a purebred, or it could be someone you know. Everyone is suspect.”  
Sam didn’t intend to scare you, but more so inform you of the danger you are in. Despite his best efforts to be calm and sincere, you feel your lip begin to quiver.  
“So you’re saying that because they came for Cyrus, I might be next?”  
Your words fumble as you try to wrap your head around what they’re saying.  
“Hey, we’re not jumping to conclusions yet. We’re trying to figure out if there is a link between him and the previous victims. In the meantime, we can’t ignore the fact that we can’t leave you here alone tonight. Staying with Bobby will not only ease your worry but ours too.”  
The sincereness in Dean’s voice reminds you how much you care about the boys and how grateful you are for all they do. You don’t want to cause them more stress.  
“I guess I can stay at Bobby’s till the situation is handled.”

You read Singer Auto Salvage as you drive through the gates. You pass stacks of beat-up cars before pulling up in front of the old worn down house. The sun has almost set, and the four hour drive has you feeling tired, hungry, and anxious. You send Dean a quick text after you promised you would message once you arrived. As you step out of the car, you hear the front door swing open and turn to see a bearded man in a trucker's cap standing on the porch, holding a beer. He’s dressed like a Winchester, in a t-shirt and a checkered flannel. He nods at you as if to greet you hello. So this is the infamous Bobby Singer.


End file.
